


Don We Now Our Gay Apparel

by 70SecretKinks



Series: Deck the Halls with Steve and Bucky [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Meet-Cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 11:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8799745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/70SecretKinks/pseuds/70SecretKinks
Summary: 'Tis the season for a little holiday meet-cute. Enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emphasisonem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emphasisonem/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Надевай свой лучший наряд (Don We Now Our Gay Apparel)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9646637) by [Sevima](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevima/pseuds/Sevima)



> Okay, so I was getting down in the dumps while working on my currently angsty WIP and was inspired by the many wonderful, amazing Christmas stories by emphasisonem. There could be a follow-up story detailing their first date. Let me know what you think in the comments! Thanks!! Happy Holidays!!

4:38 p.m.  That’s what time it read on Bucky’s watch when he glanced at it for what must’ve been the 30th time since he and his excited five-year old niece Anna stepped into line a full hour before to meet the jolly old elf himself.  Bucky sighed loudly and shifted their heavy winter coats and tangled scarves from one arm to the other.  His feet were sore, his arms were tired and he was sweating his balls off in the middle of Macy’s because someone there thought the North Pole was actually located in Death Valley.  The thought had crossed his mind on more than one occasion as to whether or not Anna would be mildly upset or in full-blown meltdown mode if they simply stepped out of line in favor of getting ice cream instead.  But every time he looked down at her cherubic little face, framed by a mane of beautiful, brown curls, he could only smile and give her tiny hand an encouraging squeeze.  He’d promised her on Thanksgiving that he’d take her to sit on Santa’s lap and Dasher be damned, he was doing just that.  It wasn’t Anna’s fault that her stupid uncle had waited until two days before Christmas to finally make good on his pledge.  Besides, after already waiting for this long he wasn’t about to give up their place on principle alone.

“We’re getting closer,” he said with a nod towards the carefully constructed scene.  And he was relieved to see that it was actually true.  Only four more families stood between them and Santa.

“Uncle Bucky?” the little girl said with a slight tug on his hand.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answered, looking down at her with a smile.

“I have to use the potty.”

Bucky’s eyes grew suddenly wide with terror.  This couldn’t be happening.  Not now.  Why was this happening right fucking now?!?

“Um…” he started, whipping his head around to see if his sister was anywhere in sight.  Unable to spot her through the sea of people that surrounded them on all sides, he crouched down to assess the urgency of the situation.

“There’s only a few more people of ahead of us, Banana.  Do you think you might be able hold it?”

Anna scrunched her nose and twisted her legs, grimacing with the apparent effort to keep her bladder from spilling over.  “I can try,” she said meekly with a shrug, completely convincing Bucky that he had about five minutes to get her to a toilet.

Bucky juggled the coats in his arms, accidentally dropping her jacket and his scarf to the floor as he fished his phone out of his back pocket.  He cursed under his breath as he bent to pick them up, shooting a warning glare at the sanctimonious mother who stood behind them, audibly ‘tsking’ him for his choice of mumbled words.  The sweat that was previously threatening to fall over his brow now began to trickle down his face.  He silently congratulated himself for pulling his near shoulder-length hair back in a sloppy bun before they’d gotten in line.  His neck was already hot and sweaty enough as it was.

It took four long rings for her to pick up.  “Hel—”

“Becks!” Bucky interrupted immediately.

“What happened?” she asked sounding thoroughly unsurprised.

“Where are you?” he asked, hopefully scanning the room once again.

“Upstairs.  Actually looking for a gift for you if you must know,” she huffed.

“Thank God,” he said with sigh.  “How soon can you get to the North Pole?”

“Why?  What’s going on?” she asked, now sounding slightly concerned. “Is Anna okay?”

“She’s fine.  Sort of,” he answered, taking two steps closer to the front of the line.  “There’s like only three people ahead of us in line and she needs to use the bathroom.  Now.”

“Oh!” Rebecca answered.  “Um…okay.  Don’t move.  I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but answered with relief, “Hurry up!”

He turned to his niece and slipped the phone back into his pocket.  “Don’t worry sweetheart, Mommy’s on her way.”

“But what about Santa?” she asked, her amber eyes as big as saucers and glistening with the prospective tears.

“Don’t you worry,” Bucky assured her.  “I’ll stay right here and wait for you so we don’t lose our place in line.”

“You will?” she asked with a sniffle, her sad eyes now gleaming with a sliver of hope.

“’Course I will.”  Bucky waved a loosely pointed finger at the gathered crowd.  Santa’s not goin’ anywhere any time soon.  Especially not when he’s waiting to meet good little girls like you,” he added with a pat to her little head.

Just then Rebecca arrived, hands full of shopping bags and completely out of breath.  “Here you are!”

“Mommy!!” Anna squealed with relief, dancing awkwardly in place in her glittering gold dress.  “I gotta pee!”

The empathetic chuckles from the other parents around them did nothing to comfort the squirming child.  Rebecca dropped her bags at her brother’s feet, tossed her coat onto the pile in his already loaded arms and grabbed her daughter by the hand.

“C’mon,” she said with a voice of sheer determination.  “We’ll be back before Santa can say, ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!  Where’d you go?”

With that, the two took off in a flash of matching brown, bouncing curls.  Bucky watched the pair bob and weave like salmon swimming upstream until they disappeared out of sight in the thick throng of holiday shoppers.  His shoulders slumped as he let out the breath he’d unthinkingly been holding in on Anna’s behalf.  And there he stood.  A grown-ass, sweat-covered, literal hot mess of a man.  Waiting in line to meet Santa Claus.  Alone.

“Ready to tell Santa what you want for Christmas?” asked an attractive, dark-skinned man who was manning the red and white striped velvet rope at the entrance to Santa Land.  Even the ridiculous pointed ears and shoes the guy was wearing couldn’t mask his handsome features or his beautiful gap-toothed grin.

“Hey man, I don’t mean to rush you but as you can see, there are a lot of boys and girls waiting behind you to get a few minutes with the man in red,” he said when Bucky failed to respond to his initial greeting.

“Uh… sorry,” Bucky said as he nudged his sister’s pile of bags to the side with his foot.  “Little one had a bathroom emergency,” he explained.  “Any chance I could just step aside and wait here ‘til she gets back?” Bucky implored, full-on begging puppy face shamelessly on display.

Santa’s helper shook his head and chuckled.  “Does that usually work for you?” he asked before letting the pompous parent who’d been tsking Bucky before pass by with her two kids.

Bucky sighed and reached for his wallet.  “I’m not above bribing an elf if that’ll hold our place in line.”

The other man laughed out loud.  “Dude,” he said putting his hands up in halting motion.  “That won’t be necessary.  First off, don’t call me elf.  I prefer the term ‘holiday helper’.  Secondly, I don’t want your money.  I’m not earning a dime to be here today.”  He gestured to the rest of the green and red-clad crew around him, including the man dressed as Santa and added, “None of us are.”

At Bucky’s raised brow he clarified, “Just a bunch of big-hearted veterans helping out around the holidays.  We’ll hold your place in line free of charge but,” he said pointing a thumb towards the trademark red Salvation Army collection kettle, “We won’t say ‘no’ to a little extra coin for the kitty if you’re so inclined.”

Bucky grinned back at the friendly fellow.  He pulled a $20 out of his wallet and put it in the pot.  “Maybe next year, I’ll join you,” he said casually.

“Well, we won’t say ‘no’ to that either,” the other man answered with a smile and a hand offered in greeting.  “Sam Wilson most days,” he said in a hushed voice.  “But today you can call me Gumdrop.”  Bucky tried in vain to contain the bark of laughter that escaped from his mouth.  “Only for today,” Sam added with a stern look that was completely useless when paired with the colorful, jingle-bell covered costume he wore.

“James Barnes,” Bucky managed still grinning widely.  “But all of my friends call me Bucky.”

“Bucky Barnes?” Sam asked.  “Really?  And you’re laughing at me.”

Bucky pointedly scratched his nose with his middle finger earning a laugh from Sam.

“So, which branch were you in there, BB8?”

“Army, ya nerd.” Bucky answered.  “You?”

“Navy,” Sam answered.  “SEALs.”

Bucky whistled in appreciation.  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam.”  The other man nodded and took a step back.  “Nice to meet you too, Bucky.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some little visitors to welcome to Santa Land.  You hang tight and we’ll get you and your little one back in line whenever you’re ready, okay?”

“Thanks, Gumdrop,” Bucky replied with a chuckle and a new degree of respect for the band of volunteer merry makers working busily before him.

In the seemingly endless minutes that passed while his sister and niece were away, Bucky had little else to do but clutch onto their coats and study the hectic holiday scene.  He watched with amused admiration as Sam knelt down to greet every child who passed through the gate; doing his best to make them feel welcome and safe before leading them by the hand to introduce them to Santa himself.

Speaking of which, Bucky hadn’t really had a chance to properly check out the man of the hour.  He’d expected to see a portly, old man with a genuine white beard and mustache; tiny square spectacles resting on the tip of his nose.  That seemed to be what all the stores were going for these days—authentic, senior citizen cosplayers recruited from the local retirement home.  So he was more than a little surprised by what he found instead.  A guy that, if he had to guess, was probably right around his age.  Twenty-eight maybe?  Thirty tops.  And despite the purposefully loose cut of the red velvet and white fur-trimmed suit, Bucky could tell that the dude was tall, broad and built like a brick shit house.  Every time he hoisted a small child onto his knee, it looked as though his biceps might burst through the far-too-tight, red velveteen sleeves.  Not that the little ones seemed to pay any mind.  They were far too excited to care about anything other than blurting out their most hoped for Christmas wishes to the one man on Earth who might make them come true.  _Or_ … maybe they were as hypnotized as Bucky felt when he noticed the man’s impossibly blue eyes, crinkling with mirth as he chuckled and smiled, playing the part of the jolly, old elf.  Unfortunately for Bucky, the rest of Mr. Claus’ face was completely masked by the phony white, synthetic beard that clung cartoonishly to his mouth, moving far too much every time he spoke to be even remotely convincing.

“So,” Sam said with a smirk as he walked back towards Bucky, “You got a thing for the suit or for the guy wearing it?”

“What?” Bucky answered dumbly, clearly surprised at being called out for blatantly staring at the Holiday Helper’s boss.

“You heard me,” Sam said, his smirk morphing into a knowing smile.

“I was just thinkin’ about how hot he must be,” Bucky blurted without really thinking about just how suggestive that might sound.

“Hmmm, I thought as much,” Sam replied with a chuckle.

Bucky’s cheeks felt like they might catch on fire.

“I meant he looks hot in that suit.”

“So you _do_ have a Santa kink then?” Sam teased with an infuriating wink.

“Christ on a cracker,” Bucky muttered under his breath.  “You know what I mean!  The suit—it looks warm and it’s hot as hell in here!”

Sam was full on laughing now, earning an interested look from Santa.  Sam looked over at the man in red while gesturing with his thumb in Bucky’s direction.

“Told ya,” Sam bragged.  “He thinks you look hot!”

Santa broke character and glowered at his assistant, his barely visible cheeks flushing an even rosier shade of red than the make-up he’d had on.

Sam leaned in close to whisper in Bucky’s ear.  “Just so you know, the feeling’s mutual.”

“Huh?” Bucky asked, blinking dumbly at the other man and wondering exactly when he’d been reduced to the speechless, human coat rack he’d apparently become.

Sam gave a slight nod in St. Nick’s direction.  Santa shifted in his chair like it was covered in pins and needles as he tugged anxiously on the edges of his coat, shooting quick, furtive frequent glances in both their directions.

“He thinks you’re hot too,” Sam explained quietly, one corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile.

“Who thinks you’re hot?” Rebecca suddenly interrupted.  “Is he cute?”

Bucky had never been quite so happy in all his life to see his sister and adorable little niece.  “Anna Banana!” he exclaimed, completely ignoring his sister’s inquiries.  “All better, sweetie?”

“Uh huh!” she beamed.

Sam knelt down to the little girl’s level.  “So glad you could make it Anna!  Or is it Banana?”  Anna giggled and hid one side of her face in this side of Bucky’s leg.

“I’m Gumdrop,” Sam continued.  “Welcome to the North Pole!  You ready to meet Santa now?”

Anna nodded frantically and peeked out from behind Bucky’s thick thigh to take a look at the big man in red.  He smiled at her softly and gave a little wave.

“C’mon then,” Sam said, extending a hand to her.  Anna stayed in place, clinging to her uncle’s side.  She looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading.

“You said you’d come with me, ‘member?” she asked nervously.  Bucky nodded and handed the pile of coats to his sister.  Then he took Anna’s other little outstretched hand and gave a nod to both her and Sam.

“Let’s do this!” he said.  As the three of them stepped onto the fluffy, faux snow covered path, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous himself.

“Santa, may I present to you, Miss Anna Banana,” Sam said with a flourish, bowing humbly before he took a step back.

“Well, hello there Miss Anna!” the Santa Claus said, taking her tiny hand in his.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Bucky really shouldn’t have been so surprised by the rich, deep timbre of the other’s man voice but it was like a bell to Pavlov’s dog.  Bucky heard it and immediately began to drool.  Regardless of the innocent words pouring out of the guy’s mouth, the only sound that Bucky heard was sex.  He shook his head to clear his mind of the flood of inappropriate thoughts invading his imagination when he heard Anna squeal.  She looked up at her uncle, beaming from ear to ear with literal hearts dancing in her eyes.

“Have you been a good girl this year?” Santa asked.

“Yes,” she answered sincerely as she crossed her heart.  “I promise.”

“Is it true, daddy?” the Santa asked next, shifting his full attention to Bucky.

Bucky was apparently hypnotized once again by those beautiful blue eyes and unable to form words.  Or maybe he was still just trying to get over the fact that this undoubtedly hot guy who donated his day to play Santa had just called him ‘daddy’.

“That’s not my daddy, silly,” Anna said with giggle.  “Tell ‘im Uncle Bucky.”

Bucky cleared his throat and tucked a loose strand of hair that had escaped his messy bun nervously behind his ear.  “It’s true,” he replied.  Anna’s been perfect this year.  An absolute angel.  The best!”

Anna folder her arms over her chest with pride and nodded her approval of her uncle’s glowing endorsement.

“You can ask my mommy too if you want,” she said, pointing a finger towards her coat-covered mother.

“That won’t be necessary,” the Santa Claus laughed.  “Why don’t you come sit on my knee, we’ll have Snowflake over there take a picture of us, and then you can tell me what it is that you’d really like for Christmas this year?”

Anna nodded and allowed the veritable stranger to pick her up and place her on his knee.  Bucky made to step of the frame when the little girl stopped him by grabbing onto his sleeve.

“You sit on Santa’s lap too!” she said excitedly.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, kiddo,” Bucky replied, a crimson blush heating his face once more.  “I’m sure your mom and dad would rather have just you and Santa in the photo, sweetie.”

“How ‘bout we take two?” Sam/Gumdrop suggested.  “One with just you and Santa, and another one with all three of you.”

Anna clapped excitedly, swinging her small feet in happy, little circles from her perch on Santa’s knee.  She smiled sweetly as the photographer snapped the first picture before grinning expectantly at her uncle.

Santa patted his unoccupied knee in unspoken invitation.

Bucky looked around sheepishly at the gathered, bustling crowd.  He knew that no one was really paying attention to him but the tips of his ears still burned red with embarrassment.  Then he looked at Anna.  The look on pure excitement on her face was all that it took to have him seating himself onto Santa’s thick thigh.

“Is this okay?” Bucky asked meekly.  “I know I’m a bit big to be sitting on your lap.”

“Are you kidding me?” The Santa Claus said, a distinct Brooklyn accent coloring his words.  “This is literally the highlight of my day.”

Bucky smiled at the other man, wanting more than ever to tear off the beard and hat and finally get a good look at the guy’s face.  Even with it on, sitting this close Bucky could tell the dude was a looker.  He had to be.

“Okay,” Sam said with a smirk.  “Let’s all smile nice for the camera and say “Candy Canes!”

After the flash popped, they all blinked their eyes, trying to clear the sea of dots now floating in their vision.

Santa turned his attention back to Anna.  “So, what would you like for Christmas this year?” he asked.

Bucky made to get up, but much to the brunet’s surprise, the Santa looped an arm around his waist to hold him place.

“I’d like a puppy, a dolly, and a baby brother, please!”

Bucky and Santa both chuckled at her requests.  Then the Santa looked at Bucky, his eyes searching for any kind of help.

Bucky smiled and reached over to ruffle his niece’s hair.  “You know you can’t have pets in your apartment building, Anna.  And Santa can’t deliver you a baby brother or sister.  That one’s up to your parents.”

Santa gave Bucky a gentle squeeze on the hip in thanks.  Anna sighed but seemed to understand.  “Okay then, I’d like a dolly, a _stuffed animal_ puppy, and a boyfriend for my Uncle Bucky.”

“Anna!” Bucky squawked, eyes going comically wide and his back as stiff as a board.

“Man, I love this job,” Sam chuckled aloud.

“I heard mommy tell grandma she wished you could find a nice boy,” she added sweetly.

Bucky nearly jumped to his feet when he felt the thumb at his waist rubbing over his side in small, soothing circles.  It was like an electric current jolting through his veins.

“He’s been a good boy too!” she added for good measure.  “He brushes his teeth every night!”

“Oh my god,” Bucky said, hiding his face in his hands.

“That’s very sweet of you, Anna,” Santa Claus said.  “And very thoughtful too.”  The little girl glowed at the praise.  “You keep being a good girl, and I promised you’ll find that dolly and stuffed dog under your tree on Christmas morning, okay?”

She nodded enthusiastically.  “Okay!”

“I’m afraid I can’t give your Uncle Bucky a boyfriend for Christmas though no matter how good of a boy he’s been,” he added contritely.  “Somethings are beyond my powers to give.”

Anna’s face fell as she looked up at her uncle sadly.  Bucky wanted to die.  “Okay, well…” he started to say, ready to leave this whole embarrassing encounter behind him.

“But,” Santa interrupted, now turning tentative blue eyes towards Bucky.  “I know someone who would very much like to ask him out on a date.  If he’d be interested, that is.”

“You do?” Anna asked with a hopeful grin.  Bucky just sat there, speechless for the fifth time that day.

“Dude,” Sam said as he grabbed their pictures off of the printer.  “Don’t just leave him hanging.”

Bucky looked between the Santa Claus and his meddling holiday helper.

“Um…yes?” Bucky answered uncertainly, never breaking eye contact with the other man.

“Great!” Sam said proffering his hand to help the little girl down.  “Thanks for coming to visit us today Miss Anna Banana.  You have a very Merry Christmas!”

“You too, Gumdrop!” Anna answered, throwing her tiny arms around the Sam’s legs and squeezing him in a tight hug.

Bucky stood up slowly, not really sure as to what he was supposed to do next.

“Here ya go, Bucky,” Sam said, scrawling a note on the back of the envelope containing their pictures before handing it over to Bucky.

Bucky read the note over before looking back at Sam.  “Steve Rogers?” he said.

“Unless you’d rather call him Santa,” Sam chuckled.

Bucky tore the part of the envelope with Steve’s name and number off and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans.  He turned to thank Sam for everything and was surprised to see the man’s typical mega-watt grin replaced with a more serious look.

“Listen man,” he said quietly.  “I’ve been friends with Steve for a long time.  This might as well be a bona fide Christmas miracle that he actually worked up the nerve to ask you out just now.  In front of an audience.  In a fucking Santa suit.  So please… do me a favor and give him a chance.”

Bucky looked back at Sant—Steve.  He was kneeling down to speak intently to a little boy who was confined to a wheelchair.  It made Bucky’s heart melt.

“You know what Sam?  I think I just might.  I mean, I guess it’s not really all that different than any other blind date, right?  Except that he knows entirely what I look like and I’ve already sat on his lap.”

Sam burst out with laughter.  When they reached the exit, Bucky turned to shake his new friend’s hand.  Instead of taking it, Sam held up his phone for Bucky to see.  On the display was a picture of Steve—stretched out in the grass on a warm summer’s day.  He wore nothing more above the waist than stretches of tanned, smooth skin, mounds of mouth-watering muscles and a perfect smile on his incredibly handsome face.

“Holy shit,” Bucky muttered as his mouth went dry and all of the blood in his body rushed south at the sight.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky,” Sam said with a smirk.

Bucky blushed.  “I can’t wait for Santa to come this year. "


End file.
